


burnt metal

by spiteandmalice



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Rise of Kylo Ren (Comics)
Genre: Dream Sequence?, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Ren Squared, Ren is a big scary scarred murderer and Ben's into it, What happened at Luke's Temple Stays At Luke's Temple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiteandmalice/pseuds/spiteandmalice
Summary: Ben has some visitors.(set just prior to Rise of Kylo Ren issue #1)
Relationships: Ren (Star Wars: The Rise of Kylo Ren)/Ben Solo, Ren (Star Wars: The Rise of Kylo Ren)/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	burnt metal

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written after the Rise of Kylo Ren issue #2, so will probably get Jossed by the time the next comic comes out. This is mostly because of the panel of Ben's face when he sees Ren's bare face. Also Ren is an overdramatic, sassy bitch and I love him. 
> 
> Ben is 23/24-ish here, as it’s just prior to him leaving Luke’s/the Rise of Kylo Ren issue #1.

Luke tells his pupils to let go of desire and attachment. That a Jedi should be pure, focused on serving the people, doing what’s  _ right _ . 

Ben finds easy to breathe out whilst in group mediation, let his body leave the earthly anchors of desire and need and want as they breathe as one, become one with the Force.

At night, when he’s alone…

It's not so easy.

  
  


Their footsteps wake Ben. The other pupils wear the same soft leather boots he does, these are different: sturdy boots, for kicking down doors and marching across planets. 

The leader’s durasteel mask glints in the low light of Ben’s lamp as he enters the hut. The other Knights stand behind him, a dark wall of figures blocking out the light of the moon outside.

The leader steps to the side to let the other Knights enter. 

“Remember us? It’s been a while, kid.”

Ben sits up in his bed. “Of course, but why are you wearing that helmet? You left it behind on the Jedi outpost.”

“Because this is a dream sequence. It’s not real. I’m not actually here. My master told me where to find you. Said you’re the strongest with the shadow that we'd ever have.”

Ben lifts his chin proudly. He knows he’s the strongest of Master Luke’s pupils, and because he isn’t tethered to the ideals Luke holds, that keep Luke weak and  _ tamed _ , he will be stronger than him, soon. 

The man cocks his head, reaches his gloved hand out to cup Ben’s face, the leather tough and scratchy against Ben’s jaw. 

“But we are not individuals we are  _ one _ . Your power will be our power. We  _ are  _ Ren, we follow the Ren. Could you be Ren too?”

“Yes.”

Ren rolls his ‘saber hilt between his hands, then tilts it forward to Ben.

“Are you strong enough?”

“Yes.”

“Will you worship the Ren, follow the call?”

“Yes!”

“Prove it.”

Ben opens his mouth, leans forward and licks the hilt, dips his tongue into the grooves along the shaft.

The ripple of murmurs amongst the other Knights is silenced with a click of Ren’s fingers.

“Outside. All of you. Now.”

They go.

“Keep going, Ben.”

Ben closes his eyes, and licks again, tastes the dust and dirt and blood and pain of the hundreds slain with this lightsaber, and underneath, the acrid tang of burnt metal.

Ren hums, presses the hilt forward and Ben opens his mouth obediently, lets Ren push it in, press it against the flat of his tongue, rattle it against his teeth while Ben tries not to gag. The prongs on the base dig into his chin and lip but he stretches his lips as far as they’ll go.

“Are you offering yourself to the Ren? To me?”

Ben tries to nod, but his mouth is stretched wide and full and Ren hums again. “Good.”

He slides the hilt out of Ben’s mouth and Ben works his jaw loose, hears it click, wants to spit out the taste of the burnt metal.

Ren lays the hilt down on Ben’s bedside table, reverently, turns it so it is exactly parallel to the bed. 

“Our master sent us to tell you we were ready for you, but you’ve been waiting for us all along, haven’t you?”

Ben nods, so Ren shoves Ben’s blankets and sheets to the side.

“Don’t keep the Ren waiting any longer, Ben.”

Ben kicks his pyjamas off, drops them over the side onto the floor with the discarded bedding. Master Luke wants everything kept neat, says a clean space helps keep a clean mind. 

Master Luke is not here right now. 

Ben lies on the bed, on his back. Ren removes his ragged cape, lets it flutter to the floor, tugs his trousers down, kicks them and his boots off. His considerable scarring extends down his groin and legs. He climbs on the bed, presses his body atop of Ben’s. 

“It’s just a dream, kid.”

  
  


Ren is not rough, but he’s cruel.

He takes Ben to the edge over and over, unscarred fingers finding every secret spot on Ben’s body and he lets him stay there, wobbling on the edge until he almost cries, then while he’s coming down from his first orgasm, Ren pushes into his body. 

Ren smells like battle, like death, like victory and Ben scrunches his eyes shut, focuses on the sensations, of being filled for the first time and Ren presses the cold metal of his mask to the back of Ben’s over-heated neck and laughs as he fucks him, tries to tease noises out of Ben, pinches at his nipples, the curve of his thighs. He’s heavy and Ben has to fight to stay upright on his hands and knees. 

Ben bites his own fist as he comes, trying to stay quiet, but the other Knights outside must know what’s happening. The bed is a basic wooden pallet, and it creaks alarmingly with every thrust. 

Ren finally comes onto Ben’s back, adding to the dirt and filth Ben knows he deserves. 

Ren slowly pulls a final, weak orgasm of out Ben with his rough gloved hand, and Ren laughs as Ben shakes apart. 

Ren lets Ben’s come slide down his glove before smearing it onto Ben’s chest and ribs. Ben flops onto his back, wincing at how filthy he feels against his formally clean sheets.

Ren reaches forward, slides his hand down to tap two fingers against Ben’s used hole and it twitches under his fingertips. 

"Should I let the other Knights in here? Let them take their turn?”

Ben shakes his head. “I serve the Ren. Not them.”

“Good.”

“So can I join the Knights?”

Ren hums and is silent for a moment. 

“We’re going to meet again, very soon. My master says you’re going to say yes, this time.”

Ren laughs, dips his head to brush his helmet against Ben’s cheek, whispers as if telling a lover a secret. 

“When I offered you the Ren I intended you to take it, to wield it, to perhaps strike one of us down with it and take his place. That’s the usual way. You offered us something more, you offered yourself.”

Ren hums. 

“I don’t know if that makes you very clever, or very, very foolish. Time will tell.”

Ben sleeps.

  
  


Somewhere in another part of the galaxy, the Knights turn to their leader. Ren stretches his arms above his head, rises from his meditation position.

“Do you think he got the message?” Vicrul queries. 

Ren nods. “It went well. He’s going to join us soon, but he might need a little nudge. I think we could light a fire under him, so to speak. See if any other students follow him. Smoke him out.”

  
  


Ben wakes up in his hut, shivering.

His mouth tastes like burnt metal.


End file.
